Counting Eagles

Photo by Vancouver Island Photographer, Rainer Willeke

In the morning when I sit at my dining table having breakfast, I look out over a forest of trees to a distant patch of sunlit ocean, backed by snow-topped ice-cream mountains. Often ravens are having conversations in the tall evergreens, and once in a while an eagle wheels overhead, just beyond my backyard. There is a little lake out of sight behind the trees, and I like to think that the eagle is swooping down to fish there, but more likely it is scanning the road at the back of our place, looking for roadkill. 

One of the things I love about being back at the BC coast again is seeing eagles. Lately we have been making regular trips to our local ski hill to go for an afternoon of skiing. This involves a drive up the coast, and then up into the mountains. It takes a little more than an hour. On the way I count eagles. (Note that I am not driving while I count. Rob drives to the hill, and I drive home.)

I always see at least one, and I have counted as many as six eagles on the drive. I have learned to look for their favourite perches, high up on dead branches. They like to position themselves where they can overlook both a stream and the highway. Open patches of field also are favoured. Sometimes I see hawks as well as eagles. I am speculating that the number I see on any given day depends on whether the tide is in or out. The Island Highway is just a few kilometers from the ocean in most sections, and when the tide is out, there is lots for the eagles to eat in the tidal pools.

This retirement gig is pretty awesome! I am grateful everyday that I get to be in this place and do the the things that I do. Skiing, for example. I have written before that skiing is part of my identity story. I love to ski. I have had some injuries that sidelined me from skiing for periods of a year or more, and nearly a decade ago, I even had one doctor tell me that I would never ski again. So now I ski much more cautiously, and am thankful for every additional year that I get to be on the ski hill.

A Happy Skier

We have met some new friends here who like to ski, and have had great fun meeting them at the hill. Later we debate the problems of the world in a bar or restaurant.

My Trusty Skiing Partner

Of course, not every day is a perfect day. Sometimes things break -- one of our toilets, to be exact, and we have been waiting for a week to get a plumber. Or technology decides to drive me crazy. For example, my mobile phone has decided that it no longer wants to communicate with my computer. So I can't upload my photos, just when I am trying to organize and edit my painting photos for my art website.

The sun does not shine everyday. This is the west (wet) coast. However, we put on our raincoats and boots, and out we go anyways.

Thursday Dog Walking Group

This morning most of the hardy members of my weekly dog walking group showed up despite the threat of rain. That is my dog, Kate, in the foreground. And yes! The smiling person on the left is Donna of Retirement Reflections.